


Thunderstorm

by haraamis



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-05
Updated: 2011-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-14 10:36:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/148347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haraamis/pseuds/haraamis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the forces of nature rage outside, Relena watches from the safety of her home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thunderstorm

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2006.
> 
> This is entirely Lil’s fault. Oh, and Okaasan’s as her story Man of Means made me believe that Wufei would be a wonderful father. *smooches both of them*
> 
> Thanks to Anne for the beta and to Ruth for telling me that this would work as short as it is. ♥

Quiet footsteps approached her, the almost inaudible sound of his bare feet on the hardwood floor familiar by now. He moved like a cat on velvety paws, barely making any noise, but with deadly accuracy. Not deadly to her, though. Never to her.

 

She didn’t turn her head toward him, only scooted forward slightly to make room for him to slip onto the window seat behind her. She kept staring outside, one knee drawn to her chest, the other leg stretched out, watching with fascination as the rain crashed down onto the porch which was flooded within seconds.

 

Dark clouds chased each other over the shattered sky, driven by the storm, torn and restless. Thunder rolled, still in the distance, but coming closer each time. She loved thunderstorms, the raw, untamed force they displayed. They knew no boundaries, wild and free, and nothing could stop them.

 

Although it was only late afternoon, the light outside was dim, making the soft glow from the fireplace fill the small cabin with warm golden light, a little haven safe from the forces of nature.

 

She leaned back against his firm chest, sighing contentedly as his arms encircled her waist, his cheek coming to rest against her temple. When he remained silent, she finally tilted her head back to get a glimpse at his face. "Is she asleep?"

 

His answering chuckle reverberated in his chest against her back. “Sound asleep. The storm doesn’t seem to faze her at all.” He paused for a moment, then placed a gentle kiss on her hair. "She’s growing up to be brave like her mother."

 

It was rare for him to say such a thing, and for a moment she was at a loss for words. Then suddenly, before she could reply, earth shattering thunder shook the house, the rain coming down like a waterfall. Both of them turned their heads toward the back of the house, listening anxiously for the cry of their daughter, but there was nothing but the raging storm outside and the crackling of the fire inside. She let out a breath and felt him exhale at the same time. "She’s most certainly your daughter," she teased him with a smile, earning another chuckle.

 

"I do hope so."

 

She laughed lightly and swatted his thigh, then let her hand rest there.

 

"Ouch! Violent, heartless woman!"

 

She laughed again, soothingly stroking over the abused patch on his leg, amusedly listening as he muttered something about pacifists and repressed violence under his breath and into her hair.

 

A strange rattling noise from outside diverted her attention. In the dusky light she saw little white things bouncing off the hand rail of the porch. When she looked down she could also see them swimming in the water on the floor and quickly covering the lawn in front of the cabin. Hail. Hailstones a bit larger than peas. She watched as they came smashing down, faster and faster, building a thick curtain that obscured even the view onto the neighboring trees.

 

Shuddering slightly, she cuddled closer to him, pleased as his arms tightened around her. One hand dropped to her stomach, his thumb beginning to caress it in lazy, little circles. She loved how the warmth of his skin seeped through the fabric of her shirt. His hands were always warm.

 

She placed her other hand on top of his, brushing her palm over the prominent knuckles. "You know, I love thunderstorms. But there are times like this, when I'm very, very glad I'm not outside. Isn't it beautiful, though?"

 

She rather felt than heard his quiet reply mumbled into her hair. "It is."

 

A soft smile full of affection grazed her lips as she leaned further back into the safety of his embrace and closed her eyes, grateful and intent on enjoying the short while they had for just themselves before their daughter would demand their attention again.


End file.
